Kernels
by MrsTater
Summary: A Transfigured Hearts outtake: a cosy night in with Remus takes an unexpected turn when popcorn finds its way into odd places and leads Tonks to make an important discovery.


_Originally written for the January 2007 ficathon at R/T Challenge, this story is an outtake from my **Transfigured Hearts s**eries, set after the fifth story, **Open Door**. As always, many, many thanks to **Godricgal **for her stellar beta work._

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**Kernels**

If it hadn't been for the three-year Auror training program and Mad-Eye Moody's legacy of constant vigilance, Tonks probably wouldn't have heard the faint rapping on her front door over the Weird Sisters' hit blaring on the wireless. As it was, her ears pricked to the sound, but a glance at the clock on her dressing table made her second guess whether it really had been a knock. True, she was expecting Remus -- but not until seven, and it was ten minutes to; he was always precisely punctual, never so presumptuous as to arrive early.

At least, Tonks hoped _never_ wasn't exaggeration; she hadn't settled on a hair colour yet and, on the off-chance it was her mother dropping in as she sometimes did, she headed to answer the door in her natural boring brown. Because if it _was_ her mother, at least there wouldn't be hair colours to rant about, and Tonks _might_ actually have a prayer of getting her out the house before Remus turned up.

Stumbling a little over nothing but the thought, Tonks begged Merlin to have mercy and not put her through the ordeal of introducing Remus to her mother today. What they had was still too new, too uncertain at times, too undefined. So far they hadn't even gone out in a Wizarding locale -- which niggled a bit, actually, as she'd thought, on their first date, that she'd made him see she didn't mind being seen with a known werewolf. Even so, meeting the parents would _definitely_ be premature.

So was, Tonks realised when she opened the door and gave a little start, pegging Remus as too polite to be early.

Granted, as soon as she jumped (and scrunched up her face to make her hair pink and spiky, because that was one hairdo she knew for sure he was okay with) Remus shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets, ducked his head slightly, and peered at her through his fringe with a sheepish smile.

"Hello," he said. "I'm early, I know, I'm sorry if--"

"Only ten minutes!" Coming to her senses, Tonks grabbed Remus' forearm -- his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows -- and pulled him into the lounge. She flicked her wand to turn off the wireless, then turned to face him. "Bit silly, isn't it, to apologise for getting to spend time with someone who fancies you?"

Remus withdrew one hand from his pocket, reached back to push the door shut, then settled his fingers lightly, still ever so tentatively, on her hip. "It's been five whole days since I saw you..." he said softly, his breath a gentle whisper against her forehead.

Tonks guessed that his shyness was partly due to the fact that five days ago had been the full moon, and he'd asked her not to visit him at Headquarters the day after, whilst he was recovering. Since then, their work and duty schedules had conflicted, as happened so often, keeping them apart for much longer than the moon required. Did Remus fear her feelings for him had changed in that time apart? Given how funny he'd got about her seeing him ill and exhausted in the days leading up to his transformation, it seemed possible.

Trying not to take it too much to heart that he still remained unconvinced even in the face of all her arguments that the changes that came over him once a month didn't change how she saw or felt about him, she squeezed his arms in reassurance. The small act of affection wasn't quite satisfying enough for her; she reckoned that she wouldn't be out of line to be a little more demonstrative. As she slid her hands up over his shoulders, Remus' blue eyes darkened, gazing a little more intently as his grin became more confident; his long fingers began to stroke her side, and she shivered

"I knew you were at home," he said in his slightly rasping tones, "and I couldn't wait any longer to see you."

Tonks pressed her lips together to contain her giggle, then asked, "How'd you know I was home?"

"Inner eye."

Remus' eyes twinkled as he leant forward and pecked her lips. Tonks barely had time to register the soft brush of his mouth on hers before he pulled back and straightened up.

"Kingsley came to Grimmauld to play cards with Sirius and said you'd left work on time for once."

_And so Remus had jumped at the chance to see her_.

Tonks' heart jumped, as well. It was all she could do not to wrap her arms around his neck, pull him against her, and kiss him. She restrained herself; for all his eagerness to see her, shyness lingered in his eyes and touch.

"If I like what you brought," she said in a teasing voice, "I'll think about not making you leave ten minutes early."

The arrangement for tonight's date had been that she would plan the entertainment if he would provide the food.

"In fact..." She couldn't resist leaning toward him, and her heart skipped, then quickened, to see the golden hairs at his neck quiver from her breath as he inclined his head toward her. "...if I like it well enough, I might even let you stay ten minutes _later_."

Remus' eyebrows twitched in a matching conspiratorial expression, and he removed one hand from her waist to reach into his pocket. "I've brought a great many things," he said, drawing out a crumpled paper bag. "Do I get ten minutes for each of them?"

"Hmm…" Tonks unfolded the turned-over edge and peeked inside. "Popcorn! Brilliant!"

"Why, have you planned a popcorn fight?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What else?"

"I must say, that _is_ a relief." Remus nodded his head toward the kitchen, just off the lounge. "Have you got a bowl or something for this?"

He followed her just inside, and leant against the door frame as she rummaged about her cupboards for a suitable, clean bowl. Tonks wondered if it was normal to experience strange, fluttering sensations in the heart and stomach just because you liked the way a bloke looked standing casually like that, with one hand in his pocket, watching you with a half-grin.

"Honestly," he continued, "I thought you might've planned to force me to listen to Weird Sisters Wednesday on the WWN."

Tonks clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a shriek of laughter, and Remus' tall frame filled the doorway as he straightened up, stiffly, smile faltering slightly. "You _haven't_ planned that, have you?"

When Tonks flashed a cheeky grin, he closed his eyes and cradled his forehead in his fingers. "Merlin, have mercy."

"I don't know about Merlin..." She retrieved a large plastic hot pink bowl from the very back of a cupboard. "...but _I'll_ have mercy on you."

Offering him the bowl, she suddenly wondered if her idea for entertainment really was a good one. She bit her lower lip, then went on, tentatively, "That is, if you think stand-up comedy's merciful."

"Depends on whether _I've_ got to stand up and tell the jokes."

Relieved, Tonks said, "Didn't you read the manual? That's my big test for all my boyfriends."

The instant the words left her mouth, her heart jumped into her throat and lodged painfully there. What were all those earlier thoughts about things being uncertain, undefined? Not so very long ago she'd referred to herself as Remus' girlfriend, and he hadn't acknowledged the statement. Granted, they'd been in the middle of a tiff, but...

Oh, Merlin…Remus was looking at her intently, forehead and eyes crinkled.

Because of what she'd said?

Because he didn't understand why she'd stopped talking?

Her gaze dropped. The bowl she'd handed over to him suddenly seemed worth looking at. But she didn't do so for long, because that only made her wish she'd not given it away, so she'd have something to occupy her sweaty hands.

It was one of life's great mysteries how your palms could go all wet like that whilst your lips got absolutely parched.

She darted her tongue out to moisten them, let out a shuddering breath, drew in a deep, steadying one, and met Remus' eyes. He was still smiling, but only just, and seemed poised to ask what was wrong.

_Or to tell her no, he wasn't her boyfriend._

"That is..." Tonks' voice caught, and she swallowed hard. "Well you are, aren't you?"

Understanding dawned on his face, lightening his eyes, wiping away the lines from his forehead. "Your boyfriend?"

Holding her breath, Tonks gave a slight, single nod. Surely she could hope; surely he'd have looked just the opposite if he were to say no. Her lungs didn't feel _quite_ so pressed or constricted as he glanced down at the bowl held gingerly in his graceful fingers, making his fringe fall over his forehead, as small smile played at his lips.

"I've been thinking of you as my girlfriend," Remus said, lifting his eyes to hers, "so I'd hoped the exclusivity was mutual."

Once again Tonks found herself fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to launch herself into his arms and cover his boyish face with kisses, but she couldn't stop an ear-to-ear grin.

"I think I'd be right pressed to find another bloke who'll supply the popcorn for me to throw at him when he tells lame jokes."

"Most happy to oblige," said Remus. "I heard one the other day about a Seer who applied for a job in the Magical Law Enforcement department..."

"She heard they were looking for auras," Tonks finished for him, and groaned at the pun. She jabbed him playfully in the shoulder. "Pop that corn, mister, so I can commence with the heckling."

"Yes, ma'am."

Remus set the bowl on the workspace and took out his wand. Tonks, reaching up into a high cupboard for salt and butter, paused to watch him work. She'd always loved watching corn kernels fly into the air and, like miniature fireworks, burst into fluffy white blossoms. Tonight, however, it was Remus' clever hand giving his wand the neatest flick, and his low, hoarse voice enunciating the charm, "_Effringo_," that captivated her.

"I assume," he said, using his wand to move the bowl to catch the falling popcorn, "that by stand-up comedy you mean the Lewis Jordan special on the WWN?"

"How'd you know?" Tonks cast a butter melting charm without any of Remus' flair, but at least with his proficiency for spellwork. "Fan? I've never heard him."

"Are we playing that game of yours again?" Remus quipped, shaking salt over the popcorn as Tonks drizzled it with butter.

She looked at him, not sure at first what he meant, only to feel foolish when she realised he was referring to the drinking game they'd played last time he was over, the night before full moon.

If she were to be perfectly honest -- and she hoped to Merlin she'd never have to be -- she'd suggested it because she'd hoped to help Remus feel more comfortable talking about himself. Or, more specifically, about being a werewolf. She'd only wanted him to know she didn't care that he was a werewolf, that she wasn't afraid, that she wanted to help him if she could.

The game had backfired, however, with the half-bottle of Firewhisky she'd drunk before he'd come over, the wine they'd had during the game, and her exhaustion combining to lower her inhibitions so much that at one point she'd blurted out that she'd never slept with anyone. In the days since, her went red every time she recalled it. Not that Remus hadn't been perfectly lovely about it, and not that she hadn't been really thrilled that he'd actually opened up and admitted _he _hadn't gone that far, either. But then she'd had to open her big mouth and ask whether it was the werewolf thing that had kept him from having that serious of a relationship, and he'd nearly left, and she'd never worked harder at anything than she had at convincing him to stay.

At least she made the littlest bit of headway later, when they continued playing I Never, and Remus actually -- albeit with a lot of prompting -- uttered the phrase _full moon_. Even though he'd given in and agreed to have tea with her before moonrise, he'd stood by his resolve not to see her during his recovery period. Tonks couldn't be sure how far he'd actually let her in, or if she'd really improved her chances of being let in as much as she wanted to be. He was so fragile.

Or was he? He couldn't have been too off-put by her if he could joke about the game.

Though that also might be his kind way of warning her that he'd prefer to say clear of that territory...

Why did he have to be so unfailingly polite and subtle?

"Maybe if the comedy's bad we can play," she said, forcing herself to chuckle even though she didn't feel it.

"You've never heard Lewis Jordan?" Remus asked, as he leant back against the workspace. "Seriously?"

His gaze followed her as she moved about the kitchen, putting away the butter and salt. Tonks had a feeling he wasn't missing a detail, and made her feel very light-headed and off-balance -- in good ways, of course. But she thought it a supreme act of Merlin's mercy that she didn't drop the wine glasses as she stretched up to take them out of a high cupboard.

"Only commentating the Quidditch," she said. "We were at school together, but different houses. Kingsley's always going on about his stand-up, but I've never listened."

"I haven't, either," Remus told her, "but I taught his brother, Lee. If Lewis is anything like him, we shouldn't have to worry about resorting to alternate forms of entertainment. Although..." The smile he gave her was undeniably flirty and made her stomach flip-flop. "There are _particular_ aspects of that form of entertainment -- our version of it, anyway -- that I definitely wouldn't protest alternating."

_Our version_...They were a real couple, and they had their own versions of games, with kissing written into the rules.

Recalling just how they'd kissed during _their__version _of I Never, Tonks' insides did more loop-de-loops and some other moves she was sure which, on a Quidditch field, would have been pretty impressive feats of flight. Lowered inhibitions had led her to blurt out personal information, but Remus had been physically bolder. Passion had fuelled his kisses, his hands more exploratory, and she'd hoped, reliving the moments over and over in daydreams since then, that it hadn't just been the wine. She tingled all over, feeling a bit drunk, as that hope was realized now. Remus was completely sober, and wanted to do that again...

He plucked a piece of popcorn from the bowl, popped it into his mouth, and gave an appreciative _mmm_.

"I liked the wine bit, too," Tonks teased, summoning a bottle from the opposite cupboard. "If we have some now, maybe we'll think Lewis Jordan's funny, even if he's not."

"A rosé wine is an excellent choice to accompany popcorn," said Remus, catching the glasses up by their stems between his lithe fingers, and picking up the wine bottle in his other. "But I'm afraid you're not thinking of the same aspect of our game as I am."

As he turned to go into the lounge, Tonks pitched a handful of popcorn at him. "You've got to leave ten minutes early for every bit of popcorn I just threw at you."

"Or even thinking of the same game. I wasn't referring to our chocolate wrapper fight. Your memory is very troubling."

Tonks pelted him with more popcorn, and Remus' warm chuckle filled the small space as he seated himself on the sofa, set the wine glasses on the table, and smiled pleasantly at her as he uncorked the bottle.

"Seeing as you gave me ten extra minutes with you for every kernel I brought, I don't think I need to worry much about losing..." He craned his neck to see the trail of popcorn on the carpet. "...fifty five and a half minutes."

"I never officially gave you all those extra minutes," Tonks said in the best cross tone she could muster. Which wasn't much of one, considering that at the mere thought of spending hundreds of minutes -- hundreds of _hours_ -- all in a row, with Remus, her internal organs had all taken up some wildly complicated dance her legs would _never_ be capable of managing, moving all over, trading partners...

As she flopped onto the squashy sofa, setting the popcorn bowl between them, she realised there was a measure of relief, as well, mingled with the happiness of their shift to _official_ couple status: somehow in the time since Remus' uncertain arrival at her doorstep, proceeded by the awkwardness of the full moon business, she had put him at ease. Maybe it was that they were an official couple now.

In any case, she loved seeing him like this: so relaxed and carefree, and apparently growing even more so with every sip of his wine. She watched, fascinated, as by increments his posture reclined a little more on the sofa, gradually stretching one long leg out to rest comfortably on the coffee table, which she had assured him repeatedly every time he'd been over to her flat was okay. His light-hearted demeanour was reflected not only in his lopsided grin, but in his rumpled shirt, in his adorably dishevelled hair, and occasional habit of tossing a fluffy kernel of popcorn into the air to catch in his mouth.

If his constant smile and frequent hearty bursts of laughter were anything to go on, Lewis Jordan's comedy routine hit the mark. But Tonks didn't have her own opinion, as she was far more interested in observing this unguarded Remus. Not least of all because his lips were parting as he tilted his head upward, toward the bit of popcorn he'd just tossed into the air...His tongue was _just_ darting out to catch it, then drawing it into his mouth...His lips were closing again, curved upward in a smile that could only be described as simply, perfectly satisfied...

Tonks sipped her wine slowly, and hoped Remus thought it was the source of her flush. Though she also thought it might have done him good to know what kind of effect he was having on her.

Or maybe he did. You just never knew with Remus.

She'd been impressed, since meeting him and learning bits and pieces from himself and Sirius and others who'd fought alongside him in the first Order of the Phoenix, at how Remus had coped with such pain and hardship -- more than anyone she knew, in fact, which was marked irrevocably on him in hair that had greyed too soon and prematurely etched lines on his face -- and yet still remained un-aged by it. Like his wand, Remus kept his sparkling humour at the ready, and the better she got to know him off the job, she saw how dominated he was by the boyish side of his personality. Perhaps that was exactly why Remus was Dumbledore's right hand. He possessed the calm, indomitable, fixed mind necessary for Order work, but he possessed equal measures of creativity, imagination, and flair. That sort of balance seemed so essential to his duties and, in fact, the entire Order purpose.

And on a personal level -- especially, Tonks thought, insides squirming delightfully, as _she_ was included there -- she also found it plain _sexy_.

Had she ever heard a man's chuckles contain such a low rumbling quality? What would it be like to be pressed as close to him as she could possibly be and _feel_ his laughter against her body, reverberating inside her? How could anyone expect her to pay attention to a comedian when there were the bright blue sideways glances Remus gave her when their fingers brushed in the popcorn bowl. A colony of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, and she didn't feel particularly hungry, but she kept eating popcorn because reaching in for handfuls meant the possibility of those accidental touches and the ensuing jolt of magic that passed between them.

Then she wondered: _was_ there such a thing as an accidental touch from Remus Lupin? He was so careful, so attentive, so _deliberate_ in everything he did. She loved the way his warm fingers twined so gently with hers, but she couldn't stop thinking of how his touch had recently skimmed over the small of her back, rather far south of her hips --

_Oh, Merlin. _

_That had not just happened. _

Feeling the tickle on her neck, she glanced surreptitiously down, silently pleading with Merlin not to let Remus look at her now, whilst she was looking down the plunging neckline of her emerald green top to find out if she really had just dropped popcorn down it.

And yes, she really had.

There it was, stuck in her cleavage.

All the composure she'd cultivated in Auror training for getting out of sticky situations abandoned her, leaving her to feel stupid and awkward and _panicky_ as she had with every other bloke she'd gone out with before Remus. What did she _do_? She couldn't just leave popcorn stuck between her breasts. He was a good deal taller than she was; he would _see_. But she couldn't very well reach in and get it out, could she? The other option was to get up and dash for the loo, but it might dislodge when she moved, and the idea of Remus seeing a bit of snack food fall out of her clothing was utterly unappealing. There was always a Vanishing Charm -- but waving a wand over her chest would raise terribly awkward questions, wouldn't it? Maybe she could get _him_ to go to the loo.

"More wine?" she blurted, noticing Remus' glass was empty. Before he could answer either way, Tonks scooted to the edge of the sofa and refilled their wine glasses.

Remus thanked her, and when she turned to face him, she forgot all about her dilemma.

He sat in the corner of the sofa, arms stretched along the back of it, one knee drawn up, an inviting smile playing on his mouth, and a questioning look in his eyes. Her breath caught as understanding dawned that he wanted her to sit back against him.

She didn't move immediately, but sat, marvelling how he could be so smooth, so easy, as if he were experienced at wooing when he was, in reality, as novice as she. Truth be told, his admission had made her head spin. On the one hand, she loved that they were equals in this, adored the thought that if she didn't balls this up, they might get to explore this new territory together. It also did wonders for her insecurities to know Remus wasn't comparing her to any other woman, that he didn't have a physical type he secretly -- though she knew Remus would never, ever ask -- wished she would morph into.

Yet another part of her wished he had at least a little more experience than she. His reservations about asking her out -- his excuses of age, poverty, lycanthropy -- made a hell of a lot more sense in light of this admission, than they had previously. Before she'd assumed it all came down to _her_, and while it was a gigantic relief to know he didn't see her as somehow deficient, she did wonder whether she was really up to so much responsibility. How could _she_, whose middle name might as well be Awkward, help Remus learn to open up to a woman?

Enormous as the task seemed to her in the days since she'd seen him, Tonks now felt some of that overwhelming feeling slip away. If she somehow managed to succeed, as she had in her dream to become an Auror, it would be _wonderful_, because...

_Merlin_. She was standing at the brink of something much, _much_ more than a few dates. Only a few short weeks ago she'd told Remus she wasn't thinking of anything more than acting on the more-than-platonic feelings that had blossomed from their friendship. Now she stood on ground that made it dangerously easy to fall in, head first.

And the thought didn't trouble her one bit.

The thought that it didn't trouble her _did_ do quite a lot to unsteady her already tremulously giddy insides.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the ridiculous fear that her heart was pounding so violently against her chest that Remus might actually be able to _see_ it, through ribs and flesh and clothing, and also realising that gawping at him like an idiot instead of sidling into his arms could hardly be a confidence boost, Tonks snatched up the popcorn, turned on the sofa, and scooted backward into him.

Remus had hugged her before, had wrapped his arm around her shoulders when they sat together talking, had even pulled her into his lap in a passionate embrace as they kissed...but the feelings she'd experienced then didn't quite compare to what she felt now, as he truly _held her_ for the first time.

It hadn't occurred to her, upon first laying eyes on Remus, that this thin, peaky man dressed in thin, shabby clothes possessed such strength. Even as she'd got to know him, and felt his inner power, she still hadn't imagined, much as she liked him, attracted as she was to him, that she'd find that same solidity in his physical presence. But here he was, so firm behind her, and the lean arms that wrapped around her waist, hands resting on her hips, made her feel secure in a way she never had, as every jittery movement within her stilled.

Stilled so much, in fact, that when she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth and a few pieces broke off and went straight down her shirt, his chest, vibrating with laughter against her, soothed away the accompanying mortification that made blushes prickle so painfully.

Well, not _so _much so that she didn't let out a groan at her own ineptitude, but enough that she remained just as she was in his arms, and didn't hide her face in the sofa cushions as she explained, "It's a _girl_ thing, not a Tonks thing."

"On the contrary," said Remus, removing one hand from her waist to reach for his wine. "We used to tease Lily Potter about the difficulty of being a female and eating popcorn at the same time. I daresay..." He paused to sip his drink, then continued, voice lilting with amusement, "...if I had a low-cut top on and...erm, breasts...I'd have popcorn lodged in peculiar places, as well."

Tonks laughed, and Remus' hand splayed across her tummy as though he, too, were as fascinated by the feel of her as she was of him.

"I ought to take another ten minutes from you," she said, craning her neck to look over her shoulder at him, "because you really ought to have warned me. I'd have worn a t-shirt and not had to put up with your sniggering."

Beneath twitching sandy eyebrows, Remus' eyes glimmered with the flirtiest expression he'd ever given her. Or had the wine simply uncovered a look that had been there before?

"How do you know," he said huskily, not looking away as he set down his glass, then slipped that arm around her and hugged her to him, "that's not precisely why I _didn't_ warn you?"

As his eyes darted mischievously down to her cleavage, Tonks threw a piece of popcorn at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead. "So much for showing off what a good catch you are."

"I've got excellent aim, as well," Remus replied, plucking a kernel from the bowl and dropping it directly into her cleavage.

Squealing, Tonks grabbed a fistful and made to stuff it down his collar, but Remus held her firmly against him with one arm, and caught her wrist in his free hand. She would have struggled, except that she loved the smoothness of his palm against her skin, and the way his long, slender fingers wrapped around her arm. Her own fist opened, and the popcorn fell between them, probably to get lost forever in the sofa cushions.

It was at that moment, when Tonks sat breathless and unawares, that the fingers of Remus' other hand launched a wicked tickling assault on her tummy.

In a matter of seconds, he had her squirming helplessly, sending the bowl of popcorn catapulting off her lap to scatter across the carpet, and pleading to him and Merlin through gasps and giggles and hiccoughs to have mercy, even though she really didn't want him to stop, not if it meant the end of his breath on her neck and the occasional brush of his cheek against hers as he leant over her shoulder, or that his fingers, which had crept under the hem of her shirt to tickle the most sensitive spots at the edges of her hipbones, would abandon her skin.

As it turned out, Remus stopping didn't mean that at all.

One hand did leave her exposed midriff, but Tonks didn't mind as his fingers cupped her jaw, fingers threading back into the hair at her nape, thumb stroking her cheekbone, gently turning her face to his.

"All right," he murmured, lips tantalisingly brushing her temple. "I'll have mercy...but only if you think kisses are merciful."

Tonks didn't know about _mercy_, since Remus' kisses were just one more thing she didn't want him to ever, _ever_ stop doing...His lips glided fluidly across hers, with the faintest trace of butter on them; she couldn't imagine wanting to taste anything but the mingling sweet wine and salted popcorn and Remus. He was the first man who had kissed her and _increased_ the anticipation that tingled and thrummed in her body, and she responded with an almost greedy fervour.

Again she wasn't sure if it was the wine that emboldened him, or if they'd somehow, without her realising it, got over another of the hurdles in their relationship, but as Remus deepened the kiss, he shifted, not stopping when their bodies were reclining side-by-side on the sofa, but slipping one leg over hers, settling slightly over her. And if she'd thought his chest pressed against her back, arms wrapped around her was a solid presence, his warm weight pressing her into the sofa was truly masculine and powerful.

His fingers at her waist chafed her skin as they slid around to her back, and Tonks thought nothing had ever _fit_ like his fingers in the dimples at the small of her back, pressing her so close to him--

--until his other hand, which had been working magic in her hair, her face, her neck, curled over her breast.

Her chest rose beneath his hand as she inhaled sharply, and Remus' blue eyes opened suddenly, flashing with something like alarm. He started to withdraw his hand as his lips formed what Tonks was sure must be an apology, and which she silenced by covering his hand with her own and pressing it to her breast. Remus sighed into her mouth as he bent his head to kiss her again, gently, tentatively at first, then with more attentiveness and intensity as she slid her hand up his arm, over his shoulder, up his neck to trail her fingernails through his hair...Then _he_ drew in a shuddering breath, and Tonks took another one as his fingers, which had been skimming in delicate patterns over the rise of her breast, slipped just under the fabric, stroking her skin, tracing the edge of her bra...

Immediately Tonks' mind leapt to wondering just how far this was going to go, so soon in their relationship, so suddenly after weeks of dancing precariously, cautiously...Not to mention the fact that not even a week had passed, and they'd only seen each other once in that time, since they'd admitted that they'd neither one gone that far before. Just as quickly she told herself to stop thinking like a silly schoolgirl. Wandering hands didn't lead straight to bed, and she shouldn't lose track of the moment with stupid thoughts because this was _Remus_, and he was doing _that_...

...and then the kernels of ideas that had been slowly creeping in all night burst into the realisation that _this_ was something she'd never done: be kissed and touched by a man who didn't care that she liked ridiculous hair colours and couldn't eat popcorn without dropping it down her shirt, who she trusted so completely that she didn't have to worry about where this was going because wherever it went and whenever it did, it would be perfectly _right_. And if she were to have said it in the game, she'd have to take a drink of wine, and kiss him, because now she had done it. Just as she would have to do if he were to say, _I never fell in love before._

Because she had fallen in love.

Right this very minute.

Enormous as this epiphany was, Tonks didn't sit still, waiting for it to sink in, resonate. Impulsively, she caught Remus' hand and opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to go for that alternate form of entertainment.

The words died, unuttered, on her tongue as, at the same moment, Remus' eyes opened, and he let out a chuckle as his fingers emerged from scuffing the valley between her breasts--

--holding between thumb and forefinger, a kernel of popcorn.

"Are you going to give me an extra ten minutes since I found your lost popcorn?" Remus asked, hazy eyes dancing. "Or are you going to send me home early for slipping my hand into your shirt?"

As Tonks laughed with him, she realised that the mood for talking of things she'd never done, but had done now, with him had passed. She wasn't disappointed to have missed the opportunity. It probably would have been far too forward of her, even though their relationship had turned up a notch tonight. Remus needed to get used to the idea that she wasn't going anywhere; and she _did_ need some time to figure out just what it meant to be in love, and in love with Remus Lupin. The moment for that talk would come, and she would know it, because it would be perfect.

For now, she was content to tell him with a drink of wine and a lingering kiss, and then lie on the sofa beneath his gentle weight, and to feel his low laughter rumbling against her chest.

"I'll have mercy," Tonks replied, reaching up to push his mussed hair out of his eyes. "Under the condition that you kiss me again."

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_**A/N: **__**Thanks very much to all of you who read this fic. If you take the time to comment, you'll get the Remus of your choice to help you deal with the eternal problem of being female and having popcorn fall down your shirt: shy Remus, who blushes and barely looks at you through his fringe, and turns away so you can get it out; gentleman Remus, who shows you a useful little spell to dislodge the kernel; or sexy Remus, who volunteers to go in after it...**_


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